Forgetfulness
by plenoptic
Summary: Optimus forgets his and Elita's anniversary...and, like all females, she flips. Optimus learns an important lesson... when your femme is mad, it's time to beg. Unoshot. Not too much begging involved, but it made for a pretty shwank summary.


**THE FORGOTTEN ANNIVERSARY**

_Plenoptic_

**This came to me as I was thinking about the classic "Husband forgets anniversary" cliché…and it occurred to me that Optimus is just the type to do that. So I drabbled this out, essentially. Even the best mechs make mistakes…and even the harshest femmes can find it in them to forgive. Please enjoy, please review, in that order.**

Not one word.

He hadn't said one word to her about it that day. Even though he must have noticed the frantic pounding of his Spark, he said nothing. He greeted her as warmly as always did, he was every bit as affectionate, but no mention of the event that had occurred years ago. Not one word.

So he forgot, no big deal, she told herself firmly. But it was a big deal. It was a huge deal. Their bondage was something sacred, something nothing—not even a devotion to the military—could replace. Half of her Spark beat within him, in unison with his. And half of his Spark beat within her, its mighty pulse reassuring and warm in times of stress. She tried to convince herself it wasn't anything important. She tried to tell herself that he was just overworked, tired, that he would glance at the date on his computer a few days later and be reminded, that he'd feel guilty he'd missed it. Okay, as long as he felt guilty. If he felt guilty at least, she could wait out the few days.

And the days passed. Not one word.

So she finally blew up. She yelled at him, right there in front of the whole command center. It was uncalled for, it made no sense—for Pit's sake, he'd just asked her the time—but she'd exploded all the same. It was infuriating. Why now, of all times, to forget? Why now, in the middle of a long, hard war, did he forget, right when she most desperately needed him to look back and remember that day? Something incredible had happened that day, all those years ago. Their Sparks had merged, they'd become one, beating in unison, aching and soaring the same. His pain had become hers, and hers his. They shared their joy, they shared the sadness, the grief. From that day on, something incredible occurred.

Suddenly, neither of them was alone anymore.

In years past, he'd always remembered. He'd wake her up early, ecstatic, acting much more like a youngling than a full-grown mech. He'd spend hours reminiscing…"Remember when…" or "Oh, how about that one time when you and I…" and "It kind of reminds me of that day…" The anniversary of their bondage was when he was at his happiest, at his most immature, at his most energetic. She found she loved that mech as much as she loved the serious, quiet mech war had shaped him to be. And she wasn't the only one; Prowl often commented about his commander's annual giddiness.

"It must be that time of the year again," the second in command would always say, nodding. "Never seen him smile so much."

So _why?_ Why was this year any different? Why was the smile still absent on his face, why were his laughs just as forced, just as hollow? Why wasn't he energetic as he usually was around this time, why wasn't he in his annual ridiculously high spirits?

Had he forgotten?

The thought made her sick. It made her want to throw up, had her waste systems been capable of such. How could he forget this day? How could he forget the most important, precious day in their history? The day they had become more than the leftover relationship of Orion Pax and Ariel? The day they'd given their lives to one another, the day they'd sworn to live and die as one?

_How could he?_

There was no stopping it. She'd blown up. She'd called him a lot of words she knew she was going to regret later, but it hadn't stopped her. Not for a second. If anything, it had made her even angrier, knowing she was giving him what he deserved and still feeling guilty. She hadn't been aware of anyone else but the stupid slaggin' mech before her as jaws dropped and optics widened. An eternity of silence had followed her eruption, but before his shock had subsided enough for him to even squeeze two words in she'd turned and stormed out, the fury almost blinding.

She'd overreacted and she knew it. She felt stupid, she felt foolish, like a youngling who had just thrown a tantrum, but at the moment she didn't really care. She didn't hate him. She couldn't hate him. But she could be angry with him.

She could be _very_ angry with him.

--------------------------------------------

Elita sighed. It had been days. _Days._ Pit-slagging days. He'd been trying to apologize and she knew it, but he didn't know for what. He didn't yet know why she was angry, he hadn't yet pieced it together. With a groan she let her head drop onto her desk. Primus, mechs could be so slagging _blind._

"Um, Lita?" Chromia asked nervously, and Elita jumped at her sudden arrival. "If I say something, will you promise not to scrap me on the spot?"

"…Yeah, I promise," the femme commander sighed. "What?"

"You're being unreasonable, love," Firestar cut in, and her companions both jumped, not having heard her enter. "Mechs are stupid, that's how Primus made them. If they weren't, relationships would be totally boring, don't you think?"

Elita groaned. "I _know_ I'm being unreasonable. Believe you me, I feel like a child. An absolute child. But…I can't help it. He's just…it's _unbelievable._"

"Hey, we never said he was in the right," Firestar said mildly. "But you're making the both of you miserable with this whole thing. Maybe you can just forgive the poor guy before you totally crush his spark."

Elita looked up, frowning. "What? He's not _that_ upset, is he?"

"He's totally miserable," Moonracer said, and the other three all yelped (Elita banged her knees painfully on the underside of her desk). "He's in the command center, he hasn't gotten his aft off of that chair in nearly two joors. Go talk to him, Lita, he misses you."

The femme commander sighed and stood up, recognizing defeat. "Okay, okay. I'll go talk to him. But that _doesn't_ mean he's off the hook."

"We know, chicka, we know," Chromia consoled her, but all three were practically shoving her out the door. "Just go easy on him, okay? Primus knows the poor old bot can't handle you walking out on him…it'd destroy his feeble little spark."

The spark of Optimus Prime was many things, but it wasn't feeble. Nor was it little, for that matter. It was strong, huge, its mighty pulse immense through their bond. As Elita One strode nervously down the hall she reached out cautiously, probing the bond cautiously. She felt a faint stirring in response, an expectancy, and then it emerged. The misery. It was enormous. He was aching, he was falling apart. The power behind the pain-filled emotion was enough to make her stagger, clutching the wall for support. Primus, it hurt. It hurt so much. He'd been that upset? She'd had no idea…his face had been consistently hidden as of late, his spark distant save for the pleading little nudges he'd given her.

_Optimus._ The wail echoed from her spark unbidden, reaching out to him, trying to pull him back to her. _Optimus!_

She pushed the command center doors open, panting very slightly. The huge room was full as a result of the early hour, and mechs scuttled past her with hurried "excuse me"s as they rushed to complete their duties. She turned and hurried up the stairs to the main consoles, where Optimus Prime sat moodily upon his command chair, only half listening to the report Ultra Magnus was trying to deliver.

"And then, at precisely seven hundred hours, the fifth division of Iacon—oh, Elita. What brings you here?"

She looked up at the large mech breathlessly, and he read the desperation in her optics immediately. He'd known Ariel far too long to be unfamiliar with her more mature incarnate. As Dion he'd often been the peacemaker between Orion Pax and his girlfriend, and it seemed the tradition was not out of style just yet. Sighing slightly, Magnus turned to his commander.

"Sir?"

Prime did not reply, his optics becoming increasingly unfocused as he gazed upon the command center below.

Magnus tried again. "Optimus, sir? Someone to see you."

Optimus grunted, though probably not in acknowledgment; Elita was probing his spark, trying to alert him to her presense.

Ultra Magnus swelled indignantly, unaccustomed to being ignored after two callings. Placing a hand on his old friend's arm, he said loudly, "Yo, Prime! Elita's here!"

Optimus jumped slightly and turned, obviously shocked at being addressed so crudely. Magnus shrugged and indicated towards the femme. Prime swiveled and his optics widened slightly as Elita waved awkwardly.

"Elita…" he began, but hesitated and glanced at Magnus.

The younger mech stood ignorantly for a moment before noticing two pairs of optics watching him expectantly. He started slightly and cleared his throat, blushing. "Erm…" he flipped through about twenty pages on his data pad, then returned it to his subspace pocket. "Well, I guess that's everything of importance, I'll just…be going…"

And with that he sidled off, leaving the lovers to whatever their sparks pushed them to do.

Optimus hovered awkwardly between standing and sitting. Deciding that he looked ridiculous, Elita rolled her optics and walked up the small platform. She pushed him down gently, and he sat obediently, his optics never leaving her face as he did so.

"I believe I owe you an apology," he said quietly, tearing himself from her gaze and looking out upon the command center.

"Pit-slagging right you do," she growled, straightening and crossing her arms over her chest. A long pause. "…I'm waiting."

"…I do apologize, Elita, really I do. I…I suppose I was wrong. I mean, I was wrong to not talk to you sooner."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking back up at her. "I know you're upset with me because I made no indication of remembering the anniversary of our bondage." She gaped at him, but he plowed on. "But…I mean, I was about to, but…I didn't say anything because…well, you didn't."

She stared, and he looked away once again, his faceplates furiously red. "You mean…you thought _I _forgot?"

"…Yes."

She wanted to scream at him again. She didn't make a secret of it, either. He winced and passed a hand over his chest as her spark pulsed angrily.

"Me?" Elita said shakily, her optics dark and stormy. "You honestly think I'd forget the day I bonded with you?"

He glanced at her, his optics unsure, and the next moment she'd grabbed him by the chest plates and jerked him forward, so close their foreheads touched.

"Listen to me," she growled, ignoring his squawks of protest and surprise. "Listen to me for once in your life, Optimus Prime. _I love you._ I love you, slaggit it all to Pit! And you honestly…for even one second…you'd think I'd _forget?!_ You thought I'd forget the day my world changed? The day the loneliness ended, the day I felt whole for the first time in my fragging life?! You've been spark-bonded with me for years and years and _years_, yet…!"

He stood up quickly and held a hand over her mouth; her voice had been steadily rising and half the command center had looked up to see what the commotion was. Optimus blushed deeply under the many smirks and bemused chuckles. "Elita, could we possibly…?"

"We're not taking this anywhere else!" she snarled viciously, jerking away from him, her optics murderous. "How could you possibly think, for even a nanosecond…?! Is your cerebral processor glitching or what?"

"Elita!" he cut in loudly, and his deep bellow made another fourth of the command center turn. "Would you please just listen?"

"I'm listening!" she said heatedly, fuming and not quite done yelling.

"You thought I forgot, as well," he said, frowning and placing his hands upon his hips. "So before you start on me again…"

She froze, and a moment later her spark clenched painfully. That was true. She had honestly believed that he'd forgotten, that he'd belittled the moment their lives had joined. The hurt obviously registered on her face, for he seemed to regret his words. With a sigh, he stepped forward and encompassed her in his arms, squeezing tight.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, rocking her gently. "I love you, Elita. I'm sorry, truly I am. I know how you feel—it's important to me too."

"…I know."

"How long has it been?"

"…I'm not even sure. A long time, though."

"…It's been nice."

"Yeah."

She turned her head aside and gasped slightly. He looked down at the gentle poke she administered to his abdomen. He grimaced; three fourths of the mechs within the command center (Ironhide included, he noticed) had halted their duties to ogle at the rare public interaction between their commanders. The lovers separated quickly, both embarrassed. At a few rough shoves from Optimus's closer friends, the activity resumed, though it was met with many sniggers and hoots in the leaders' direction.

"…So," Elita said awkwardly, glancing at the strong mech at her side. "I guess…I'm sorry, too…for doubting you."

He smiled, his optics warming as he gazed upon his sparkmate. "You're just as beautiful as you were then."

"Yeah, you've told me that before."

"Not nearly as often as I should," he replied, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her against his side. She relaxed, and his grin widened; he'd missed her badly. Something welled up within him—something immature, something innocent, something wonderfully young. "I swear to Primus I am the luckiest mech alive," he gushed quietly, resting his head against hers.

She smiled faintly; there was the bubbliness she'd come to crave around this time of year. "Yeah, yeah you are."

. E N D . T R A N S M I S S I O N .

**Sorry I had to cut it short I'm not doing well right now. Have to go, falling apart.**


End file.
